I slipped my phone back into my pocket, put on a smile warmer than any capitalist's, and stepped out from the corner.My employer happened to be coming out of the kitchen with a plate of freshly cut fruit.His name was Kyle Foster, a man with an exceptionally steady presence. The designer loungewear he wore so casually probably cost more than my entire year's living expenses."Mr. Arthur Wilder, come have some fruit," Kyle said with a smile. "Roobs is a little clumsy. She didn't scare you earlier, did she?"Roobs?The corner of my mouth twitched.I glanced at my mother, Ruby Lawrence, who was following behind him with her head lowered, carrying a fruit platter. I'd lived long enough to see some strange things, but this was a first.My mother was pushing fifty, and she had spent years working the assembly line on overnight factory shifts until wrinkles were etched into the corners of her eyes.Here she was, in this mansion, being called "Roobs" with unmistakable affection. She'd
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